Of Bishops and Knights
by Dragynflies
Summary: Elle doesn’t expect to see him again, but felt something strangely like gratitude twist in her chest.
1. Of Bishops and Knights

When Elle wakes up, she's in a white hospital room and there are machines and tubes running from her nose and her hand. A heart monitor is beeping in the corner.

She blinks, rubs her sandy eyes with the hand not attached to the IV and looks around the room. Everything is hazy, and she hurts.

The whole room smells like burnt hair.

"Miss Knight?" Elle's head turns towards the sound on reflex; not her name but still the doctor is coming to her bed.

She blinks at the man in the white coat, hoping he's going to tell her what's going on because she's got no idea. She remembers a beach, and a grocery store, too much blood and screaming.

"Miss Knight, I'm glad to see you awake," the doctor says gently, "your father dropped you off, I'm sure he'll be back soon."

For a minute Elle has a soaring hope that Daddy took care of her. Then she remembers her Daddy is dead, and now images from the beach are coming back to her.

"Thirsty," she manages, licking her lips with her dry tongue.

"Oh, right," the doctor says, and motions for a nurse to bring Elle some water. "I'm surprised your father didn't stay longer." He shakes his head, "you have some pretty severe burns across your stomach and arms. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

The nurse helps Elle sip her water, cupping the back of her head as Elle weakly sips on the straw. "I don't…I don't remember," Elle finally says.

The doctor swallows and nods. A beach party gone wrong; a pretty girl that drank too much and fell into the fire. It isn't the first time he's seen this, and it won't be the last. The weird part is that her father didn't really seem to care about her and had left her so soon after her admittance to the hospital.

His patient doesn't seem too surprised at her father's absence; maybe he's just one of those hands off fathers.

"Well, we're going to need to keep you here for at least another week," the doctor continues. Elle tries to read his name badge but the print is too small and blurry for her, "and keep an eye on those burns. Right now it doesn't look like we're going to need to do any skin grafts, but we need to be prepared for that possibility. Here we have the best chance of keeping the skin clean and allowing it to heal. The stitches in your forehead can come out in three days…you're lucky that when you fell, you didn't catch yourself a little harder on that rock."

When Elle nods, the whole room spins and she groans, closing her eyes. Her eyelids are heavy anyway, and it's so much nicer in the dark.

The doctor tries to talk to her for a few more minutes, but she can't hear him anymore. The sound of waves crashing fills her ears, and when she sleeps, she remembers.

She wakes up later, still in the hospital room. _Not everything was a dream._ The oxygen tubes are gone from her nose, but the IV is still in her arm. She sits up a little; the skin on her stomach and chest pulls and hurts when she moves, but she can't lay in bed, and she has to go to the bathroom.

She checks the chart hanging on the end of her bed. Eleanor Claire Knight.

So Bennet had found her, and dropped her off here. The middle name explains that much. Elle doesn't expect to see him again, but felt something strangely like gratitude twist in her chest.

She hangs the chart back on her bed and pulls her IV cart along with her. The steps to the bathroom are agonizing, burnt skin rubbing against more skin, and her head aches and throbs with every step.

She uses the bathroom and doesn't look into the mirror until she's washing her hands and glances up on reflex.

She recoils from the mirror, staring at her reflection. Her fingers come up to trace the line of stitches across her forehead before she even really understands why they're there. The stitches run in a straight row, marching across her skin where her bangs used to cover.

What's left of her hair is a mess. Short and choppy, the ends singed black. Aside from the big scary burns that are covered with bandages, the skin on her right cheek is raw and red, scabbed over. Across her nose runs a line of black scabs and her neck looks just as bad.

She squeezes her eyes shut and turns away from the mirror. When the tears spill out of her eyes and pour over the scabs, her skin burns like she's been lit on fire again.

She can't think about it anymore. Can't be here, can't do this.

But she doesn't have anywhere to go.

She makes it back to her bed, legs trembling and hands shaking as she sits down, covers herself carefully with the hospital blanket.

Her leg aches from where _he_ had dug the bullet out in the grocery store, covered it with gauze and wrapped it.

She would have followed him anywhere just so he'd touch her again.

Now the wound is stitched up, sterilized and cleaned.

Elle remembers being six, her grandmother dragging her from her burning bed and the ambulance people wrapping her in cool sheets, patting out the fire. She doesn't remember that hurting as much as this hurts.

Emotional pain plus physical pain leaves an ache deep in her chest. It hurts to breath, and it's not entirely the fault of the scabs and burns across her chest.

It hurts to cry, but it hurts worse not to.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The hospital staff quit asking if her father would return after day four. They seem to be able to tell that not everything is right with this girl, Eleanor Knight, but they can't quite put their finger on it. They avoid her room, stopping in just long enough to change her bandages and make sure she doesn't need any pain medicine, and then they leave.

After a week and a half, they finally release Elle with a long list of strict instructions and an even long list of hospital charges.

When the nurse directs her to gather her belongings in the locker, Elle blinks but opens the door anyway. There's an outfit (the pink indicates it's probably something of Claire's) and a purse.

That twisting sense of gratitude for Bennet hits again, and Elle blinks back tears when she opens the purse and finds a wallet with ID and a plane ticket. There's a note shoved in the wallet too, but Elle doesn't need to read it to get the message.

_Go away and don't come back._

There's cash in the wallet and the flight doesn't leave for three more days, so Elle rents a room at the cheap motel near the airport and spends three days sleeping and watching bad daytime TV. She's so close to everything, could try to go to Primatech and beg for help from Angela, or go to the Bennet's house and…

No.

She doesn't need anyone anymore. Everyone who she has ever loved has let her down, and now she's only alive because of fucking _Noah Bennet_ and he never gave her any indication she was anything more than an annoyance to him.

The flight takes her to a little town in Nebraska. Elle finds a room for rent from an elderly lady named June who doesn't ask too many questions about her still healing skin and ruined hair and spends a few weeks just healing (Elle really does appreciate everything Bennet did for her, but couldn't Claire have spared a few drops of blood?) until the money in her wallet starts to run low.

Then June gets her a job at the little diner where she works, and lets Elle ride with her to work each day. Elle's not a very good waitress at first, brings the drinks too late and the food at irregular intervals, but then she starts to learn.

She finds that things aren't so bad away from everyone, that she doesn't need to spark to earn a paycheck and take care of herself, and June loves having someone else living with her. Elle's a little impatient at first, doesn't like that June speaks slowly and knits, but eventually she starts to like listening to June's voice and the click-click of knitting needles.

Elle's always been good at adapting.

She's just starting to get used to the idea that she could live like this, work at the little diner, and never ever see_ him_ again when she starts to throw up every day at 5:45 a.m. and 12:15 p.m. like clockwork.

One of the other girls that works at the diner buys Elle a pregnancy test, rubs her back and murmurs to Elle as she waits for the little plus sign to appear.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

35 weeks later, June holds her hand while Elle pants and groans through her contractions. When her son finally comes into the world, pink and screaming, she cries just as hard as he does.

Elle cradles the cleaned, wrapped baby in her arms while June coos over him.

When her son opens his eyes and stares at her with the darkest brown eyes any of the nurses have ever seen on a newborn, she can really only think of one thing to say.

"Noah."


	2. Checkmate

Elle is not a very good mother. It's not that she doesn't love Noah, because she does. She could spend hours staring at him, tracing the tip of her finger gently over the curves of his face, the tiny lines on his palm, the tip of his nose.

She just forgets sometimes. Forgets to feed him every four hours until June started reminding her, writes her a little schedule with the times to follow. When he cries at night, she gets angry and electricity crackles across her skin, and the hairs on her arm stand on end with static.

She never, ever sparks him. She waits in her bed until the energy crackles down, doesn't touch him until the static is gone. Sometimes June comes in and picks him up, whispers to Elle that she'll feed him.

Elle loves her son but she has no idea how to show him that she does and no idea how to be a mother. It would help if she could remember her own mother, but when she thinks about her childhood, all she can remember is her Daddy and hot, hot energy shooting out of her palms. She can see her grandmother, sometimes, if she closes her eyes and thinks really hard, but mostly she just remembers the little house erupting in flames.

From her father, Elle learned everything a parent shouldn't do. It takes June, with her patient voice and gentle hands, to teach Elle how to be a mommy.

When Noah cries, she's supposed to check his diaper and feed him. If his diaper is dry and he doesn't want the bottle, then she's supposed to just hold him and rock him, and rub his back.

When none of that works, and June is gone, Elle shoots little fireworks from her palm, far enough away from Noah so that he won't get burned, but close enough so he can watch.

It works every time.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sometimes when Noah looks at her, with his big brown eyes, all she can see is _him._ It rips her up inside, makes the acid in her stomach bubble and Elle has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying.

She's glad he has blonde hair.

It's nearly the same color as hers, though his baby hair barely covers his little head yet. Her bangs are too long, because they're meant to cover the scar across her forehead, but the rest of her hair is chin length from when she had to get it trimmed to even it out.

Noah sits up now, and Elle sits cross legged on the floor and holds his tiny hands. She talks to him, he babbles back.

When he sits up in his crib one morning and reaches for her, his little baby voice babbling "Da Da Da Da!" her heart shatters, and she cradles his little body against hers, kissing the top of his little head.

Elle never had a mother…and Noah has no father.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

June helps Elle plan Noah's first birthday. Elle doesn't understand why June buys that little cake that's just for Noah, but takes pictures with June's camera anyway when Noah slaps his little frosting covered hands down into the cake.

Noah's laugh is infectious and pretty soon June and Elle and their coworkers from the diner (Noah's party guests) are laughing as they eat their own cake.

Elle is getting better at being a mommy. She learns to talk and sing to Noah, grins at him and reads him little puffy books. When she sparks for him, Noah opens his palm too, copying her.

Elle is secretly glad she's never seen electricity dance across her son's palm.

He calls her mama now, grins like a light bulb when he sees her in the morning or when she picks him up from the neighbor who babysits him. He loves her, without rules or constraints and without exception. He doesn't care if she's wearing her hair yanked back in a pony tail (she doesn't like pony tails; doesn't like to look in the mirror and see the scars on her neck) or if she's spent the morning applying makeup. He doesn't care what she's wearing or what she looks like, as long as she smiles and holds him.

Elle likes being Noah's mommy better than anything in her life, now or before or ever.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

On her days off from work, Elle likes to take Noah to the park. She likes pushing him in the little baby swing and watching him as he runs to her on unsteady baby feet. He talks all the time now, labels the animals he sees and the colors of whatever they're walking past.

When Elle picks him up and tells him it's time to go home, he places both hands on her cheeks and very seriously explains, "Mama. No. Is not. See bird?"

His second birthday is fast approaching, and Elle is more excited than he is. June has been puttering around the house, smiling and planning something, and she won't tell anyone, not even Elle.

Elle feels safe in Nebraska, safe and loved with a family like she's never had and a son that's changed everything about her life for the better and a job with coworkers she absolutely loves.

So it only makes sense that everything comes crashing down that day she comes home from the park with Noah to find Sylar sitting on the front porch.

Her eyes fly to the house behind him; the lights are off and June's car is gone. Thank goodness, she's at work…she just has to stay there.

Elle picks up Noah and presses him against her, clinging tightly to him with one arm while her other hand curls around a growing ball of lightning.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, and she's proud her voice doesn't tremble.

Sylar stands up, cracks his neck. He walks down the steps of the little house to stand in front of Elle, who holds up the shaking electricity ball.

"I asked you a question," she says. "Don't come any closer."

"I'm sorry."

It's the last thing she expects to hear, but she doesn't care. "Sorry a little late, don't you think?" she asks, turning to keep Noah away from him. "You left me for dead."

Sylar's eyes move from Elle's scarred cheek to the toddler clutched against her chest. Noah is peering at Sylar from the safety of his mother's arms.

"You have a baby." It's a question and not a question.

"He's none of your business," she spits out, backing away from him. She wants to make a break for it and run into her house, but she's not stupid. He can take apart a house just as easily as he can take apart a _person _and a locked door isn't going to stop him.

"Why are you here?" Elle asks again, and throws the lightning ball down at his feet. "You're not welcome here."

"I'm not welcome anywhere," he says, and he looks so sad that for a minute Elle almost feels sorry for him.

"How did you find me?"

He bites his lip and Elle thinks maybe she doesn't want to know how he got that information.

But then it hits her, and he doesn't have to say anything. iBennet is dead./i

"I had to find you," he tells her, his voice imploring.

"You killed to find me," Elle's voice is hard, and Noah starts to cry, "You killed the only person who ever ihelped/i me to come here and what…kill me again?"

She throws another ball of lightning at him, disappointed but not surprised to see that while he does recoil, his burnt skin knits back together easily.

Noah turns in Elle's arms to look at the man who is upsetting his mother so much. He makes eye contact with his father, and Elle watches realization come over Sylar.

"He's…ours?"

"He's _mine,"_ Elle bites out, "and if you ever loved me, even a little, you'll leave us alone. If you think you could love him…you'll leave."

Sylar reaches for his son and Elle recoils, electricity shooting out of her hand and burning Sylar's skin.

"I can't kill you," Elle says, "but I'll try."

He takes a step back, away from Elle and Noah, and puts his hands behind his back.

Elle braces herself for what's coming, but when he looks up at her, she can see tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I'll go," he murmurs, and Elle realizes it wasn't Sylar at all that had come to her house, "I'm sorry. I don't deserve this."

He takes one last look at Noah, lets his eyes trail across the scars on Elle's face, her cheek and the spot on her forehead where her bangs have moved aside. He turns and blinks, and he's gone.

Noah lifts his head up from Elle's shoulder to look at his mother. The lightning in Elle's hand goes out and she touches Noah's little face, checking him for wounds she knows aren't there. Her hands are shaking so bad that she's scared she's going to drop her son.

"Daddy," Noah says, his voice so quiet Elle almost doesn't hear him, and that's what pushes her over the edge.

When June comes home from work that night, she finds Elle curled around Noah in Elle's bed. Noah is sound asleep in his mother's arms, but Elle is sobbing so hard that June can't calm her down.

Xxxxxxxx

On Noah's birthday, a tiny package shows up in the mail. Elle opens it and the miniature watch tumbles out, clattering on the counter.

There's no note, no inscription, and Elle hates that she feels guilty when she drops the watch into the garbage can.


	3. Castle

Elle wants to move away from Nebraska. Hide from him like she's done the past three years, and never leave the house again.

She's getting ready to tell June just that – that her scary ex boyfriend has found her and that she needs to leave to keep Noah safe – when Bennet's face flashes through her mind. Sylar killed him because Bennet knew where Elle was.

She doesn't know if he'd do the same to June – slice open her head only to find out that June really didn't know, that Elle never told her. There's no way Elle would be able to live with herself if she let that happen.

Elle glances at Noah, asleep in her bed, and then stares at her hand, letting electricity crackle between her fingers. She curls her palm around the blue light and then cups her other hand over it, a little lighting ball that sizzles against her skin but never burns.

She can't protect anyone from Sylar. Growing up, her power gave her a false sense of security. No one at the Company messed with Bob Bishop's pretty little girl; pretty little sociopath who'd just as soon burn you to a crisp as smile as you.

Elle was never really crazy. Paranoid delusions weren't paranoid if they actually were out to get you. Erased memories and fuzzy recognition of doctors made her early years confusing, and her father's rules and orders twisted her into a person she never meant to be. It took her a long time to realize that…to realize the wrongs she's done, the evil in her life. She can't go back and fix it, but she can do better in the future.

The only people she has in her life are Noah and June. She has friends at the diner, but Elle never really learned how to hang out with friends, and so she doesn't. She turns down their invitations to go out to a bar, go to a movie, or go for a walk with a smile and an excuse that she wants to spend her free time with Noah.

It's not a lie. Noah is the absolute personification of everything Elle ever wanted. She loves his sloppy little baby kisses and his sticky hugs, she loves watching him sleep and play. She tries so hard to make sure Noah knows that he's loved. When he's awake at 10:00 at night, kissing her and telling her how thirsty he is, June warns that he'll be spoiled. Elle never cares.

And with one visit, Sylar has destroyed the safe little life Elle's created for herself and her son.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Noah asks sometimes about the strange man that came. He's not very big but he understands a few things. First, he understands that mama never sparks in front of strangers, and that he can't tell anyone about her sparks. Second, he understands that the man that scared mama and made her spark was his daddy.

"He wasn't exactly your daddy," Elle says, cradling him close to her and rubbing his back gently, "Your daddy loved you very much, but he had to go away."

Noah pushes away from her so that he can look at her face, "Daddy is gone?"

Elle bites her lip before she answers. "Yeah, Noah. Daddy is gone."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Elle knows it's stupid to miss someone she hardly knew. The glimpses of Gabriel she'd had – before she'd invited Trevor into Gabriel's apartment, in the cell at Pinehearst and during the eclipse – were not enough to build a relationship. In fact, she knows more of Sylar, understands his kills and his powers better than she understands Gabriel.

So she hates that she still aches for him. At night when Noah's little body takes up most of her bed, she curls up and closes her eyes and remembers the feeling of Gabriel's arms around her.

She'd been so happy in that moment, curled up on his chest and kissing him, that she hadn't cared about her missing power. Didn't care about their pasts or what they'd done to each other. All she could see was him, and she thought she could love him.

Who was she kidding? All her life, Elle never got what she deserved.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Elle gets jumpy leaving Noah with their neighbor now.

"If anyone comes to try to see Noah that isn't me, don't let Noah anywhere near him," Elle says, very seriously as she hands the toddler to the woman, "No one, I'm serious."

Bridget looks a little confused about Elle's sudden concern, but nods and agrees and promises to keep Noah inside from now on.

It doesn't make Elle feel any better at all and she worries every second she's at work.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Mama, I am magic," Noah announces one night while Elle is tucking him in.

"Really?" Elle asks, trying to sound calm…trying to sound like her heart's not in her throat. "What can you do that's magic?"

Noah glances across the room to his big bin of stuffed toys, and his little teddy bear flies across the room, into his arms. "I make teddy fly," he says proudly.

Elle can't help the tears that roll down her cheeks as she pulls her son into her arms, rocking him. "Noah, you can't show anyone else your magic," she pleads. "You can't show June or Bridget or anyone, do you understand me?"

"It's a secret like your sparkles?" Noah asks, his brown eyes wide.

"It's a secret like mama's sparkles, yes," Elle tells him.

"Okay mama," Noah agrees, snuggling down into bed, "I like our secrets."

Elle sits outside on the porch for a long time that night, staring at the empty driveway. He'll be back someday, and now she's got more things to hide.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Noah is only two and a half, but he's smart for his age. He likes to watch people, and asks questions that leave Elle exhausted by the time he's through.

"Birds fly," he observes one day from the little swing at the park. Elle stops pushing him long enough to answer.

"That's right."

"Do people fly?"

It's a harder question to answer, especially now. "No, Noah. People don't fly."

He's not old enough to understand yet, anyway.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A letter shows up in the mail addressed to Elle Knight. It reminds Elle of what Bennet did for her, and worse, what happened to Bennet ibecause/i of her.

He doesn't seem to know how to quit.

It's an awkwardly worded letter; he was clearly struggling for words. Elle doesn't know what to think as she reads the scrawled words.

He's begging with every word for her to let him back in, let him see her…let him see his son. He swears he has control now, swears he will never hurt her again.

There's pain all over the letter, without him having to tell her, but Elle has changed. She doesn't trust anyone – exactly two people have ever helped her, and one of them is dead because of her, and the other in danger.

She can't reconcile the man who kissed her and held her…who pushed her into the grocery elevator to save her…with the man who pinned her to the beach, kissed her and then cut open her skull.

She doesn't know when Bennet found her, or how, but she knows that if Sylar had still been there, things would be drastically different right now.

So when he begs forgiveness and asks her to trust him, she can't. Won't, for Noah's sake.

She rips off the return address and incinerates the letter with a flick of her little hand.

The letter she writes back only has four words.

_Please leave us alone._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Things are quiet for the next two months, and Elle is coming up on her 28th birthday. June and her coworkers surprise her with a little cake with a single candle at the end of their shift, and Elle blushes so hard that her entire body goes red.

She's still not used to people caring about her, especially not en masse.

"Make a wish!" Sarah demands when Elle goes to blow out the candle, and Elle raises an eyebrow.

"A…wish?"

Grace smiles, "Elle, you have to make a wish before you can blow out the candle!"

iRight./i Elle closes her eyes and wishes for something she will never have, then blows out the candle.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When June, Elle and Noah return home, the package sitting on the front steps is more expected than surprising. She takes the box to her room and waits to open it until Noah is tucked in and asleep.

It's just a little box, but Elle still opens it like it's going to explode in her hands. It doesn't, and when she opens the top she finds a small envelope and another box.

Her hands shake when she opens the envelope. There's a single picture, bent and aged, and a note.

_You deserved better than what you were given. I'm sorry. _There's a phone number scribbled at the bottom, and an address. The writing is shaky, like he added it at the last minute, too quickly to let him over-think it.

The picture is of a woman in a dress holding a pretty little blonde girl towards the camera. Both of the people are grinning, and Elle traces her finger over the image. _Why..._

It takes her a minute to realize who that picture is of, because she doesn't remember what her mother looked like.

She clutches the old picture in her hand, staring at her mother's face. The people in the picture look happy, little Elle in her blue dress, grinning at the photographer, and the smile on her mother's face is one Elle recognizes – it's the same look that she has when she sees Noah.

She doesn't want to know how Sylar got this picture, but it doesn't matter, really. It's the best present she's ever gotten and she can't bring herself to care that it's from him.

When she can finally see again through the tears that she couldn't stop, she pulls open the little box that was with the envelope. A man's watch with a cracked face spills into her palm, and Elle understands immediately what he's trying to tell her.

She just doesn't know how to respond.


	4. Breakthrough

Elle shows Noah the picture of her mother, and Noah touches baby Elle's face with his little chubby baby fingers.

"Mama pretty," he tells her, then touches her scarred cheek with his tiny hand. He's never seen her without the scars, of course, and he doesn't know how she got them.

"See Grandma?" Elle points, and Noah's eyes follow where her finger goes.

"Grandma?" he asks, looking at the woman in the picture, then back to Elle. Her heart breaks when she realizes he's not labeling – he's asking. The only family Noah has ever had is his mama, and Grandma is a foreign concept.

"This is mama's mommy," she explains, "See her hair? It looks like ours."

Noah looks at the picture again, but squirms. He doesn't sit still very well, and it's clear he doesn't understand the importance of this picture to Elle. "Swing?" he asks, looking towards the door, "Please, swing."

Elle sighs and puts the picture back on top of her dresser. "Yeah, Noah, we can go to the park."

Xxxxxxxxx

Elle spends the rest of the day with Noah, pushing him on the swing at the park and then taking him out for ice cream. As Noah smashes the vanilla cone into his face, half eating and half just making a mess, Elle's eyes trail over the other families eating in the little shop.

A man has his little girl balanced on one knee, and she's daintily accepting bites from the spoon he offers her. A woman sits off to the side, laughing, and brushes her hand against the man's face, kisses the little girl's head.

Another family, with a little boy…the man is making little airplane noises as he zooms a bite past his son's lips, and the toddler cracks up, ignores the ice cream and reaches for his daddy.

In the corner, Elle finally sees a woman, sitting alone with her little girl. The little girl is lapping at a rapidly melting ice cream cone, and the mother is grinning. Elle thinks for a second that maybe she should take Noah over to say hi, that maybe this woman and Elle could take their children to the park together, when a man comes up from behind the woman, kisses her below the ear and swipes a bite of her ice cream.

Elle sighs and looks at Noah, happily downing his ice cream and covering his shirt with melted vanilla, and gently smooths his hair back from his eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

After Noah falls asleep that night, worn out from the park, Elle sits at the kitchen table and stares at the broken watch. The front is cracked and it won't keep time…it won't even wind up.

So if it's broken, it should either be fixed or throw it away completely, because holding on to half-things doesn't make any sense.

But what if it can't be fixed, and all that ends up happening is that instead of fixing it, it breaks worse? Does it matter, if it didn't work right in the first place? Can something be only partly broken?

Elle's hands shake so hard she can barely dial the phone, but she bites her lip and takes a deep breath and does it anyway.

"It's Elle," she says, and she doesn't even care that her voice shakes, "Can…can we talk?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They go for a walk, because dinner seems too much like a date, and even though Elle knows that of course Sylar knows where she lives, she doesn't want him anywhere near her house. They end up sitting down by a little lake, watching the sunset and waiting for the stars to come out.

They're not talking much, just quiet, half trusting sentences. He asks her about Noah, she tells him Noah's age and hair and eye color, and that he loves baby carrots and his teddy bear.

She doesn't tell him that Noah can make his teddy bear dance around the room.

She learns early on in the conversation to omit details rather than lie about them…when she'd told him that she didn't miss him, not like that, he'd gotten a funny little half smile on his face and nodded.

It makes her wonder how many people he's killed, and just how powerful he really is now.

"Where have you been?" she finally asks, tucking her knees up against her chest and wrapping her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees and looking at him through her bangs.

"Around," he says, "I…I have an apartment in New York. I have a shop again."

His obsession with knowing things, with fixing things, makes him good at his job, and not so good at being a person.

Elle presses her mouth into a thin line, looks at him. He looks the same, really. Dark hair slicked back, a button up dress shirt, and dress pants. He looks like Gabriel, and he looks _safe_…which just makes him that much more dangerous at the end of the day.

"Thank you for the picture," she says, changing the topic and looking out over the still water of the lake. She can see the reflection of the trees in the water.

"You deserve to remember your mother."

"I deserve a lot of things that I'll never get," Elle snaps without meaning to, anger coloring her voice.

He's got no rebuttal for that, so he just nods quietly. "Elle…"

"Tell me why," she demands.

"Why…"

"That day._ Why_ you did what you did. Why you told me we could have something, be something, away from our parents…you lied to me. I never lied to you."

He stares at the water for a long minute, twisting his fingers together. "Elle…"

"No," she says, "I think you owe me that much."

"I do, I know," he tells her, shifting on the grass, "I just…I thought you knew something, I thought you were playing me again…Elle, I was so confused."

"And that was worth my death?" she asks, her voice trembling, "You had a bad day, and you didn't know something, so the answer was to…" she lets her voice trail off; they both know what he did. It doesn't need to be spelled out.

"There is nothing I can say, Elle," he tells her, and she turns her head to look at him. The fading sun catches in the tear that rolls down his cheek, and she has to fight the urge to wipe it away with her thumb.

"No," she agrees, "I guess not." And there really isn't. She owes Bennet for everything she has in her life, and she's not willing to jeopardize what he gave her – what he gave his life to give her – so easily. What happens the next time Sylar has a bad day?

She rests her head on her hands, watching him quietly. Her hair falls over the scars on her cheek, brushing against skin that no longer has feeling. When he reaches his hand forward to brush the hair away from her face, she flinches, and she's back on the beach again.

"Please don't touch me," she murmurs, pushing her hair back behind her ear with her own fingers. He nods, folding his fingers together and staring at the ruined skin that covers her cheek and neck.

"I'm so sorry," he says, and he half reaches for her again, but drops his hand before his fingers make contact.

Elle ignores him. "I called you because this isn't fair to my son."

"What…"

"He has a father," Elle says, like he hasn't spoken, "and he has the right to know who you are, even if you don't deserve to know him."

"Please, Elle…" he's not sure what he's begging for, but he's dreamed of meeting his son since the first time (and only time) he saw him.

Elle shakes her head, "I don't know you at all. And until I do, I'm not letting you near Noah. I'll die first."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On the nights June works the late shift, Elle lets Noah practice his ability. She'll line up his stuffed animals on his dresser and sit next to him, requesting each one. He can move them with just a gaze – doesn't even need to raise a hand – and he is learning to control the speed at which the little stuffed toys move.

"Mama, show me your sparkles," he requests one night, and Elle obediently opens her palm, little bursts of electricity crackling on her skin. Noah squints in concentration and Elle watches as the tiny blue ball of energy rises out of her palm and floats in midair before exploding.

"Noah…" Elle breathes, and Noah grins proudly.

"I thinked I could do that," he says simply, crawling into Elle's lap and kissing her cheek before crawling under the covers. "Night, mama. I love you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You have a watch shop?" Elle asks, sitting across from Sylar at the little outdoor café.

She's running out of ideas of places to meet him that aren't her house, and she feels a little silly, playing with her ceramic coffee mug and staring at him across the table.

He's so many things and none of them all at once to her. Her son's father, yes, but maybe also the man she loved…loves. She doesn't know what to call him anymore, so she avoids addressing him at all, and she wonders if he notices.

"I do," he says, "it's in a different location…the old one had too many bad memories, and I wanted to start over."

Elle nods, thinking of how she felt the first day she moved into the little house with June. Trying to be ready for a fresh start but not at all sure of what the fresh start would bring.

Elle slides a picture of Noah across the table to him, "I brought you this," she murmurs softly, and he pulls the picture into his hands.

"He looks like you," he says, staring at the picture like it might come alive in his fingers.

Elle nods; she hears that a lot. "Except for his eyes," she takes a drink of her coffee, burning the roof of her mouth with a too-large swallow.

"He's beautiful, like his mother," he whispers, and Elle bites her lip. She remembers being beautiful, but now all she sees in the mirror are red burn scars.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Elle, are you alright?" Beth asks as Elle drops her second plate that night all over the kitchen floor.

"I'm fine," Elle says, wiping her palms on her apron and apologizing to the cook, who has to remake the entrée. "Just have too much on my mind."

She hates that he's all she can think about, and is starting to think that maybe calling him was all a bad idea anyway.

xxxxxxxxx

Noah's birthday is coming up, and Elle can't believe that her son is going to be three. She remembers the fear that came along with the positive pregnancy test, the anxiety that came from Noah's shrill baby cry and the love that came from knowing he was hers like all of those things happened yesterday.

Noah says "three" like "free" and Elle thinks it's too cute to correct. June tries, sticking her tongue against her front teeth and making him imitate her "thhhhh" sound. He does, and even correctly says "the" but when asked to imitate three, he grins and says "free."

He flashes Elle a big, cheesy smile like he's done a trick, and Elle suspects that Noah is messing with them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Did you make it hurt?" Elle asks quietly. They are sitting near the lake again, and the foot of distance between them feels like miles. "When you killed Bennet. Did you make it hurt?"

He doesn't answer.

"You blink now," she continues, "did you kill for that?"

He shakes his head, "I got it from Hiro Nakamura. He's…he's the one who brought us to the beach that night."

"What else can you do?"

She can see his Adam's apple bob when he swallows hard, and he looks right at her, "I don't want any of it, but I'm not strong enough to give them away."

Elle knows the information she had her in phone was enough to give him at least five new powers. What he took from her mind, she doesn't know, but at least he knows she never meant to lie to him.

Not like he did to her.


	5. Endgame

The older that Noah gets, the more he looks like his father. Elle can pick out Gabriel's features in the slope of Noah's little nose, in his tiny ears and the chocolate brown of Noah's expressive eyes.

If she looks hard enough, she can find the curve of her lips in Noah's smile, and that his cheekbones mirror hers.

He is wonderfully animated, loves to explain things he experiences with her with wide sweeping arms and toothy grins. When he relays the adventures from his day at the babysitter's house, he sweeps his arms to the side to show Elle just how much fun he had. _("This much fun, mama, we had THIS much fun!")_

These are moments that she cannot communicate to Sylar when they sit and talk. She can tell him that Noah still manages to completely mutilate his sentences in the most delightful way _("Mama, you are the mosted pretty mama of all the mamas")_ but she can't explain the beaming smile that accompanies it, the way his eyes glitter like diamonds when she picks him up.

And so, two weeks after Noah's third birthday, she sits down with her son and explains to him that they are going to visit his daddy.

"Daddy gone," Noah says seriously, and Elle can't help wincing. She did tell him…has told him more than once that Daddy is gone, that Noah has a mommy and a June and a babysitter that all love him very much.

"Noah, your daddy was gone for a long time…but he is back now, and he would like to meet you," Elle finally says, sliding her hand through his baby soft hair and kissing Noah's little forehead. "Would you like to meet your daddy?"

Noah looks pensive for minute, eyes Elle with a suspicious look that makes him look far older than his three years. Finally, he touches her right cheek, and looks right into her eyes when he says, "Yes. I want to meet Daddy."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Elle has no idea the right way to do this, so she asks him to meet them at the park. It's Noah's favorite place, and he's comfortable there, and it's public enough that if something goes wrong, people will notice.

If something goes wrong, Elle doesn't know what she'll do.

She's got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach all the way to the park, and she carries Noah even though he struggles a little.

"Mama, I am big boy," he whines, kicking his little legs, "I walk, I walk!"

Elle hitches Noah up on her hip and kisses his forehead, "I know you're a big boy," she says quietly, taking a deep breath, "Mama just wants to hold you."

Noah narrows his eyes, but accepts her answer, relaxing in her arms. "Daddy will be fun?" he questions, "Him will swing with me?"

Elle bites her lip and nods, "I think he will swing with you."

She can see him waiting at the park, and she feels a little better when she notices he looks just as nervous as she feels. He's pacing in front of the park bench, his left thumbnail between his teeth as he looks down the road. When he sees Elle and Noah he shoves his hand into his pocket and waves with his other.

Elle swallows hard and leans her head against Noah's. "Noah, see?" she asks and points a little towards the nervous man, "That's Daddy."

Noah kicks his little legs so hard that Elle has to put him down, and takes off like a shot for his father. Elle watches Gabriel's face light up and he sinks to his knees, opening his arms. Noah barrels towards him, absolute delight on his face, but skids to a stop just before he makes contact for the hug.

Gabriel's smile falters, but he closes his arms and leans in towards Noah, who is watching him carefully.

"Hi, Daddy," Noah finally says, just as Elle catches up and sinks to her knees next to her son, watching Gabriel out of the corner of her eye.

"Hi, Noah," he murmurs, "I missed you so much."

"Are you back forever?" Noah asks, serious and straightforward – something he got from Elle that is perhaps not genetic. He is unapologetic in his questions, and expects the correct answer.

Gabriel glances at Elle's tense face before answering Noah's question, "Yes, Noah. I'm back forever."

Noah nods, looks at his mother for reassurance, and then leans forward to push himself into his father's arms. He wraps his little arms around Gabriel and gives him a hug, nestling his little body against Gabriel's chest.

Elle's face relaxes a little when she sees the tear slip out of Gabriel's eye.

Maybe he does deserve to know Noah just as much as Noah deserves to know him.

The afternoon passes strangely uneventfully. Noah instructs Gabriel to push him in his swing while Elle watches from her perch on the park bench. She is still not entirely at ease with Sylar…Gabriel…being so close to her son, but Noah is his son too.

When the sun starts to set, Elle tells Noah it's his bedtime. Her little happy son screams and clutches at Gabriel's legs until Elle caves and asks Gabriel if he'd like to walk home with them.

She can't help the jealously that courses through her when Noah promptly scrambles into his father's arms so that Gabriel can put the little boy on his shoulders for the walk home.

The walk home is silent except for Noah's happy babbling, and Elle feels the air thicken with tension the closer to home they get. She unlocks the door and invites Gabriel in. She helps Noah into his pull up and pajamas, and then grants Noah's request for Gabriel to read his bedtime story.

This is the first night that she hasn't tucked Noah in herself since she had him, and she sits on the couch in the living room, fighting tears. She knows that the day couldn't have gone any better, that Noah clearly fell in love with his father the moment he saw him, but she still doesn't like sharing. Noah has been _her_ son since that night in the diner when the extra line showed up on the pregnancy test, and thus far, she's really only shared him with June and Bridget.

"He's asleep." Gabriel's quiet voice startles Elle and she jerks her head up, blinking back the unwanted tears.

"Oh," she sighs, "I didn't say goodnight…"

"I'm sorry." He sounds like he really means it too, "I didn't…I didn't want to leave him, and then he fell asleep…I didn't mean to…"

Elle shrugs and blinks a few times, "It's okay…not your fault."

He comes to sit next to her on the couch in the quiet living room. He fumbles with his hands before clasping his fingers together and glancing at her sideways. "You didn't have to let me see him," he says finally, when the silence becomes so uncomfortable it starts to hurt. "Thank you."

Elle nods. The issues with sharing her son are hers, and are not his fault…not really. Had things been different, the sharing would have been natural and normal, just mommy and daddy and their baby.

But things weren't different, and no matter what, in the back of her mind, she will always remember what he did to her.

He surprises her by reaching for her hand. She jumps and her heart skips a beat when he rubs his thumb over the soft skin of her palm. "He's amazing."

"I know," she says, staring at their entwined hands. His touch unravels her…makes her want to lean in and kiss him almost as much as she wants to spark up her skin and yank her hand away. She hates that he can do this to her so many years later, after so many changes in her life.

"You're a good mom." His voice is quiet, and his grip on her hand is so loose that she begins to understand that he is just as lost as she is. The only difference is she has spent the last three and a half years making herself a better person, a better mother for her son, and he's spent the last three years doing…something else.

"I'm not going to keep him from you," she says suddenly, pulling her hand away. "You don't have to be nice to me just so you can keep seeing him. You jumped through my hoops, you did everything I asked."

He holds out his hand, palm up, and looks her right in the eye with the same look that Noah gets when he is serious. "I'm not being nice to you just so I can see Noah."

Elle breaks the gaze first, looks down at the carpeting and shakes her head lightly. "Syl…Gabriel. I…you're going to have to be patient with me. I'm trying really hard to do what's best for Noah."

He doesn't withdraw his hand, "What about you?"

Elle turns her head and meets his eyes. The living room is dark; June isn't expected back for another hour, and suddenly Elle's heart is in her throat. He makes the first move, leans forward just far enough to brush his lips against hers, so gently she barely feels it.

When she doesn't jump away, he kisses her just a little harder, sliding his open hand up to cup her cheek in his palm. She leans into his touch and opens her mouth when his tongue teases at her lips.

She can't hear anything in the room but there's a roaring in her ears she can't identify, a heady rush that reminds her of past kisses on a broken floor in a deserted house, of the first time she ever really felt loved in her entire life.

She slides her hands around his neck and curls her fingers into the little hairs at the back of his neck, hitching herself closer to him. They're not touching except for their lips and careful hands on uncovered skin, but Elle feels her heart rate triple and a whole other kind of electricity roll down her spine.

She shudders and hisses his name, his real name, and in turn, he lets his hand trace against her cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb as he curls his tongue with hers, traces the curves of her mouth.

She whimpers and finally moves towards him, just a little. He pulls her back against him, leaning back against the couch and letting her lay against his chest, on top of him, without breaking their kiss.

"I missed you so much," he murmurs between kisses, brushing his thumb over the sensitive skin just below her ear and Elle whimpers, letting her hand skim against his side. His hand moves from her face to curve around her waist and he traces the line of skin between her jeans and shirt with the tips of his fingers, making her shiver.

He slides his hands under the hem of her shirt, and she doesn't argue. His hands skim over her warm skin and she sits up just enough to let him pull the little shirt over her arms and head.

When he tugs her shirt over her head, his eyes catch on the mottled scars that cover her body, that trail up her stomach to peek out of the outline of her bra. They're the worst on her chest and arms, but smaller ones crawl up her neck to meet the scars on her cheek.

Elle watches his eyes trail over her body… over the scars that are his fault, and she covers her chest with her arms self consciously.

"I didn't…" he can't find the right words, if there even are any. He traces across the marks on her shoulder and she shudders under his touch. She wonders if he remembers the fire, how it crept along the path the accelerant had created: across her belly, up her chest, over her shoulder to the side of her neck, where the flames licked at her hair until that went up in flames too.

"Please don't," she murmurs, but she can't raise her eyes to meet his.

They're not ready for this…it's too much, too fast. She doesn't trust him and he's….

He doesn't know what he is anymore. A father, now, to a child who's three years old…a man, maybe…but no longer hers. Maybe he never was.

He reaches for her hand, meaning to twine their fingers together so he can pull her closer and kiss her again, but when his fingers interlace with hers, she jumps and yanks her hand away.

The moment is so surreal to Elle that she can taste the spray of the ocean, feel the sand under her. She will not let him gain the upper hand, not now.

She grabs for her shirt, yanks it back over her head and swipes angrily at her too-long bangs.

"Elle…"

She's wiping at her cheeks, not looking at him, and he iknows./i

"I can't do this," she whimpers, and finally looks at him. Her tears make her eyes darker, more blue, and he has to close his eyes.

"Okay," he says quietly, moving away from her on the couch. She's got her arms crossed over her stomach now, learning forward a little. She's closing in on herself again, building up the walls that she's been letting down around him.

"Can…can you please leave?" she asks, her voice shaky, "You can come back to see Noah, if you want…tomorrow or whenever."

Gabriel nods, fighting the urge hold her, rub her back until she can catch her breath, apologize for something that really deserves something greater than a simple "sorry."

He stands up from the couch and looks at Elle. She wipes at her cheeks a few more times and then stands up. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, "I just…I can't do this right now."

She follows him to the door, and opens it for him. He takes a few steps and then turns back to her. His hand shakes a little but he carefully wipes his thumb across her teary cheek. She flinches but doesn't move away.

"I'm so sorry, Elle," he says, dropping his hand to his side and looking at her, his eyes dark with remorse.

"I believe you," she says; it's the best she can do at the moment, and he understands.

There is no going backwards, no fixing the past. Just building the future, and he's not ready to give up yet.


	6. Tiebreaker

Noah's latest trick is making more than one stuffed animal fly at once. He can make them loop now, create his own version of a mobile with just a glance. Noah's easy mastery of his ability scares Elle a little bit, and also makes Elle remember herself, at three, cold and shaking and trying so hard to only spark on command.

It wasn't nearly as easy for her to control her ability at three as it is for Noah. He delights in what he can do, loves to make his bears float and fly and dance in figure eights. He is clearly pleased with himself, looks towards Elle with a big grin when he shows off the latest thing he's taught himself.

Maybe, if Elle had been able to teach herself how to control her electricity, things would have been different. If her father hadn't pushed her so hard, maybe it wouldn't have taken her so long to internalize her ability, to really control it and understand it. Because of this, Elle is careful with Noah. She gives him chances to practice, and claps and smiles when he does something new, but she never, ever implies that his ability is what makes him worthwhile, and never tells him what to do with it.

Sometimes she bases her ideas on parenting on just doing the exact opposite of her father, because June has taught her that he was never really what a father should be. She can't make herself stop loving her daddy, can't even make herself not miss him, but she can try to make sure that Noah never feels that empty ache in his heart that she thought was normal.

She knows the person who would be best suited for helping Noah grow and mature into his ability is Gabriel, with his matching telekinesis, but she's not ready to have that conversation.

"Mama, you have sparks," Noah tells her one night, laying on his bed and watching six different stuffed animals dance in a circle above his head.

Elle raises an eyebrow, curious, "You know that," she says, "Why?"

"I make things fly," Noah says, and suddenly six stuffed animals land on his bed.

"Yes, you do," Elle encourages.

"What does my daddy do?"

_Oh._

"He…he does some things," Elle says vaguely, and in her mind she start a list. Telekinesis, like Noah, but there is also his intuitive aptitude, rapid healing, alchemy from her father, her own electricity…and who knows what else…especially now.

"Can I show him teddy fly?" Noah questions, scooping the bear into his arms and holding him out to Elle.

She shakes her head, "What did mama tell you about flying things?"

Noah visibly grumbles, dropping his teddy to the bed and crossing his arms, "Is a secret."

"And who can you show?"

"You," Noah pouts, "Not June or Bridget or Daddy."

Elle nods, ruffling his hair and leaning in to kiss his forehead, "That's right. Thank you for listening to mama."

Noah grumps, but Elle knows he won't tell Gabriel until Elle gives permission…she knows Gabriel will find out at some point. She just wants to wait a little longer, because sometimes when she closes her eyes, she can see her son's face with a red line etched across his forehead.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Daddy, ice cream," Noah requests, tugging on Gabriel's pant leg as the three of them walk down the street. To strangers, they are a beautiful little family, their son a perfect blend of his handsome father and pretty mother.

They can't see the way Elle's stomach twists when Gabriel looks at her, or how Gabriel reaches to touch her but never makes contact. They don't notice that Noah alternates between parents, but never seems to touch either at the same time, like he understands that while they stand next to each other, they are always apart.

Gabriel looks to Elle for permission; when she nods, he picks up Noah, "We can have ice cream. What would you like?"

"Banilla!" Noah shrieks, gleeful that his request was approved. He lets Gabriel give him a little hug, then squirms, "but I walk, Daddy."

"Of course," Gabriel says, and sets Noah carefully back down on the side walk. Noah grasps Elle's hand and beams up at her.

She can't help but smile back. As hard as these meetings are on her, she loves to watch Noah light up with Gabriel, loves to see her son happy. She'll do anything to make Noah happy, because that's all he ever does for her.

When they walk into the little ice cream shop, Gabriel obliges their son's demands, holds up Noah so he can examine the ice cream. It makes Elle smile because she can't count the number of times she's held Noah up for long minutes only to have him choose vanilla every. single. time.

The muscles in Gabriel's arms ripple as he shifts his son, "What are you going to pick?" he asks, while Noah arches his body forward to peer into the glass case.

Noah is silent, then looks up to the smiling employee behind the counter.

"I will have banilla in a cone, pwease," he requests, and Gabriel laughs and sets him down. He gets a matching cone for himself and glances over to Elle, his eyebrow raised.

She shakes her head and sits down at a table to wait for Noah to bound over with his ice cream. It's still so surreal to her, it doesn't matter how many times she and Gabriel do anything with Noah; it never seems to get any easier.

Gabriel and Noah join her, vanilla ice cream cones clutched in their hands, and Elle is struck again with just how much her son looks like his father.

Noah has his nose buried in his ice cream, the vanilla dripping down over his fingers and his chin. He will need a bath again tonight and Elle is not looking forward to the battle that is getting Noah into a tub of soapy water.

"You're quiet today." Gabriel's voice startles her, and she looks away from Noah to meet his concerned eyes.

"Just thinking," she mumbles, shoving a lock of hair behind her ear. "He's gonna need a bath tonight."

"You've been quiet all afternoon," he pushes, "is everything alright?"

No. Everything is not alright. She hates that she's still jealous of him, hates that her son looks just like what she'd imagine Gabriel's baby pictures to look like, hates that Noah seems to adore Gabriel even though it is Elle who has spent the last four years of her life changing, giving up everything, and taking care of him, and worse, she hates that she wants Gabriel to come home with them and never leave, ever.

"I'm fine," she says, reaching over to wipe at Noah's chin with a paper napkin.

"Elle…"

"Not now," she says firmly, looking at her son to make sure her meaning is clear. i We don't argue or talk about any of our things in front of him./i

Gabriel takes the hint and taps the tip of Elle's nose with his ice cream cone. "How about a smile then?" he begs, as Elle wipes at her nose with a napkin.

She closes her eyes and bites her lip, "I'm trying," she whispers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Of course Noah takes a bath with no problem when Gabriel asks him.

Noah lets Gabriel soap up his blonde hair, closes his eyes when Gabriel rinses the shampoo out, and holds up his hands, little fingers spread out, so that Gabriel can clean the ice cream from each finger.

Elle picks out pajamas and turns down Noah's bed while Gabriel dries the wiggly little boy off with a soft towel and helps him into his pull up before accepting the footie pajamas from Elle.

"Read me story, Daddy?" Noah asks, and holds out a book. Gabriel nods, and takes the book from Noah's outstretched little hand, and Elle swallows her sigh and goes to leave the room.

"Mama, read story?" Noah begs, and Elle pastes a smile on her face.

"Sure, Noah," she says, and sinks down onto the bed. Noah settles his little body between his parents, squirming and pushing at them until they're both lying down on either side of him, and then turns to Gabriel.

"You can read now," he tells Gabriel, who opens the book and starts the story, his voice soothing, like Elle remembers from years ago, when he told her she could have exactly what she wanted.

He's just turning to the last page in the book when Noah's snore interrupts him, and Gabriel closes the book.

"Maybe I wanted to know how it ends," Elle teases, a real smile on her face.

"Everyone lived happily ever after," Gabriel says it without thinking, and immediately regrets it.

Elle glances down at Noah, asleep on her shoulder, before looking at Gabriel. "It's too bad life isn't a fairy tale," she murmurs.

Gabriel nods, unsure of where she's going or what she's really saying.

"I wanted to live happily ever after," she finally says, her voice so quiet he can barely hear her. She shifts a little, carefully slides her hand under Noah's head to move him from her shoulder to the pillow. He sighs in his sleep but doesn't wake up, and she moves to get up.

"Wait," Gabriel begs, reaching for her hand. He grasps her wrist and she doesn't pull away; it's the most she's let him touch her since that horrible night, but he can feel her pulse fluttering quickly against his thumb.

He makes her nervous.

Elle motions to the living room; he releases her hand and gets up from Noah's bed carefully, so he doesn't disturb the sleeping child. He follows Elle out of the room, pausing to turn on the nightlight next to Noah's door, and then closes the door carefully.

Elle sits down at the kitchen table instead of the couch and twists her fingers together, playing with her rings. It's the first time since their kiss that she's really invited him to talk to her without Noah, and she looks absolutely pale.

Gabriel sits across from her, the small table like an ocean keeping them separate.

"You're good with Noah," Elle admits. "I'm sorry that you didn't know him sooner."

He hates that he missed the earliest years of Noah's life. He hates that he never had to get up with him in the middle of the night, never had to change a diaper or warm a bottle. Most of all, he hates that he wasn't able to be there for Elle when she found out she was pregnant, never brought her saltines or ginger ale or held her hair back when she had morning sickness.

Of course, those things are his fault, and that hurts too. From the second he'd left her for dead on the beach until the second that Bennet had said something that implied Elle wasn't dead, he missed her. Regret her death more than anything he'd ever done, ever. Hated that he wasn't able to control himself, and hated even more that this time, his lack of control had cost Elle her life, and him, the only person he wanted to be with.

"I didn't deserve to know him," he mumbles, staring at the wood grain of the kitchen table. His fingers trace the lines of the wood and he avoids looking up to meet Elle's blue eyes.

She shakes her head, "Maybe not. But…you've changed, I think."

"I…"

"What do you do in New York?" she asks, cutting him off.

"I…work?" he says, "I told you, I have a shop…I repair watches…"

"So…" _this question is never easy, no matter how many times she has to ask it, _"have you hurt anyone?"

He swallows hard, shakes his head. "Not…not since…not since I found out you were here."

_So…no one since Bennet._ It wasn't good, but it was a start.

"Are you going to?"

His head shake is more firm this time, "Never again."

Elle's hands shake as she reaches across the table for his. She slides their hands together, touching him carefully, like he might bolt. Gabriel's gaze rises from their hands to her face.

"I'm sorry about before," she says softly. He moves one hand away from their entwined fingers to brush against her scarred cheek. She doesn't jump this time, just lets him touch her. When his fingers touch the soft skin next to the scar, her eyes flutter close.

"I hurt you," he says, his voice so sorrowful that her eyes open just in time to see a single tear roll down his cheek.

Elle places her palm over the hand on her cheek. She can't argue with that. "You did," she agrees, thinking of her recovery in the hospital, the pain that moving caused for weeks after she was released, and the aching hole in her heart that never quite filled.

"I never want to hurt you again."

So this is it, then, and she takes a deep breath before she speaks. "So kiss me."

He can't hide his shock, eyes wide as he reaches for her, pulls her to him. She sits in his lap, and he traces the lines of her face with his fingertips, like she's a porcelain doll who will break under his touch.

The lines of her scars blend into perfect, unmarred skin, and the skin under her ear is so soft. He rubs his thumb against the line of her jaw, and then carefully pulls her head to his. He kisses her like she might flee, doesn't cup the back of her head or hold onto her shoulders in case she wants to pull back.

But she doesn't. Her eyes close, and she kisses him back. He can feel the flutter of her eyelashes against the skin of his cheek, her heart thrumming in her chest, the gentle touch of the pads of her fingers against the side of his neck.

They lose themselves in each other, tongues dueling and lips pressing against each other, gentle but firm. She presses herself against him, and sighs against his mouth when he finally wraps his arms around her, holding her.

He pulls back first, to her surprise, and she fixes him with a questioning glace.

"I should go," he says, and Elle's face falls.

"Oh…"

"I just…I don't want to rush anything, and…" he shifts with her in his lap, rubs her back.

Elle has no idea how to do this, no idea how to try to idate/i him, this man who is so much more than…a boyfriend? Noah's father?

"Will you stay?" she asks quietly, "We…we can watch television or…or…"_ anything, just please…_

"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll stay."

When June comes back from work that night, they are asleep on the couch, an infomercial on the TV. Elle is curled against Gabriel's chest, her face nestled in his neck, and his face is in her arm, his arms wrapped around her. She covers them with a blanket and smoothes the hair back from Elle's sleeping face. Over the past four years, Elle has wormed her way into June's heart, and June loves to see her happy. She deserves it.


	7. Recovery

"Daddy, where you live?" Noah is sitting at the table with Gabriel, looking at a half assembled puzzle of the United States.

"I live in New York," Gabriel says without thinking. "It's here," he shows Noah the tiny New York puzzle piece and Noah's brow furrows.

"We live in Na…Nabra…'braska," Noah trips over the name, and then peers at the puzzle.

_Oh, shit._ "Nebraska is just here, Noah," Gabriel says, and points to the Nebraska puzzle piece. Noah looks from the Nebraska piece to the tiny New York piece and bites his lip.

"What, Noah?"

"You live very far away," Noah says slowly, "but you come see us lots."

_Busted._

"I love you, Noah," Gabriel says, "I like to visit you."

"Yes, but," Noah points to the distance between the two states and falls silent. He looks over to his father and opens his mouth a few times like he wants to say something. Gabriel waits, patiently, until Noah finally spills out, "Mama does sparks."

Well. That's really not what he expected at all. Gabriel nods, "I know," he says, because he's not exactly sure what he's supposed to say.

"Daddy, do people fly?" Noah remembers his mother answering this question, but sometimes he's not sure. If he can fly things and mama can spark, then maybe…

Gabriel glances at the clock. It would figure that Elle's not due to return home from her shift for another hour…that the first time he is left alone with his son Noah corners him with questions he doesn't know how to answer.

When Gabriel is quiet for too long, Noah fixes him with a hard stare, "Daddy, do _you _fly?"

Gabriel shakes his head, "No, Noah. I don't fly." His blinking isn't exactly flying...

"Do you have magic like Mama?" Noah asks, eyes wide with innocence.

Gabriel takes a last look at the clock. It's just him and Noah for the afternoon, and he's going to find out sometime…

And so Gabriel makes a choice (the first choice really he's made without consulting Elle first) and lets all the puzzle pieces rise up from the puzzle, shift around, and slide into their proper place.

Noah looks stunned, and Gabriel takes his shocked silence as wonder. "Noah, I …"

"Daddy," Noah shushes his father, then stops, frowning at the puzzle. It is clear that the little boy is trying to make a decision and not having a very easy time with it.

Finally, the crease in his forehead goes away, and he looks up at his father, "You can fly things," he says slowly. Then, quiet, "I fly things."

Gabriel thinks he's heard wrong, "What did you say, Noah?" he asks sharply.

"I fly things," mumbles Noah, and the New York and Nebraska puzzle pieces rise from the puzzle and come to rest just in front of Gabriel, who is absolutely shocked.

xxxxxxxx

Elle comes home from work an hour later, and catches Noah showing off his ability. She sends him straight to his room, her mouth set in a firm line, and though Noah cries, she doesn't waver.

"What did you say to him?" she screams at Gabriel, furious, "What did you say to him to get him to tell you?"

Gabriel holds up both hands in an innocent gesture, "I didn't ask him anything, Elle, I swear I wasn't…"

"I trusted you with him for ONE afternoon. I was only gone six hours, and you've got him floating things around the living room. He_ knows_ that we don't do that in the living room…he wasn't supposed to tell you yet. He's never told ianyone/i before, so WHAT did you say to him?"

"Elle, I promise," Gabriel is frantic, scared that the precarious trust that they've worked so hard for is gone, "He…he asked me if I could fly, and I told him no…but he then he asked if I could do anything…"

"HE'S THREE!" she yells, "he doesn't need to know about flying people! He doesn't need to know about any of your life, or any of my life. I want him kept away from that."

"I won't lie to him," Gabriel defends himself.

"You need to leave," Elle orders, pointing to the door, "I knew this wasn't…I knew it. None of this is right, you don't belong here with us."

"Tell me then, where I belong, when my son and the woman I love live miles and miles away from me." He's not giving up without a fight, not now.

He can tell that Elle means to continue to yell at him, but his last comment caught her off guard and she swallows, flustered. "I won't have him thinking that his ability is all that makes him special," she says weakly, blinking quickly to keep the tears back.

"I would never…Elle, I swear, whatever you think happened, it didn't. He was just so excited…" Gabriel explains, "Elle, I didn't…please, please, listen…" He's rambling now, begging.

She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes. The panic that has overwhelmed her is ebbing away, and she reminds herself that her son is safe, and that Gabriel didn't mean to hurt anything…didn't mean to hurt Noah.

"Elle, I promise you," he says, reaching for her, touching her shoulders, "I never asked him if he could do anything."

She nods, unable to stop the tears that slide down her cheeks. She's shaking, the adrenaline leaving her body, and she takes another deep breath. "I just…he hasn't been doing it that long, and I've been trying to let him…practice, without…" She relaxes in his arms, rests her forehead against his shoulder, "I'm so scared that I'm going to hurt him."

"What?" Gabriel is shocked, and he wraps his arms around her, "Elle, you're not going to hurt him…"

"Are you going to hurt him?" the words fly out of her mouth before she can think and she feels Gabriel stiffen, then step away from her.

"How could you ask me that?" he asks, his voice hard, "How could you ask me if I'm going to hurt my _son?"_

Elle shakes her head, wipes at her wet cheeks, "I didn't mean…Gabriel, I'm sorry, I just…I don't know. I wasn't prepared to deal with this yet; I didn't want to tell you about Noah's ability because I still don't know what it means."

"It doesn't have to_ mean _anything, Elle. Look at you! Look at me! Do you honestly expect that our child would be normal?"

"I want him to be normal!" she shouts, stomping her foot, "I want him to be happy…is that so wrong?"

"He _is_ happy, Elle. You're a wonderful mother." And she is – really.

Elle sags, sinking into the couch and putting her head in her hands. "Maybe," she says quietly, "I try to be."

"Mama?" Noah peeks his little tawny head out of his door, "Mama, I talk to you."

Elle sighs wearily and nods, "Come here, Noah."

Noah pads out of the bedroom, looking at his mother and father. He pushes himself into Elle's arms and she scoops him up, cuddles his little body close to her. He settles himself on her lap and looks up at her with wide eyes.

"Mama, no yelling," he says, touching her lips. He glances at Gabriel, "I showed Daddy a'cause we both fly things."

Elle nods silently, and Noah continues, "So no yelling at Daddy."

"I'm sorry for yelling," Elle apologizes to Noah, "Mama was scared."

"Scared why?" Noah watches Elle carefully, pats her cheek gently with his little palm.

"Noah, you know mama loves you, right?" she asks, and Noah nods, "Mama loves you even if you don't fly things ever again."

Noah laughs, "I know, mama. You love me always because I'm Noah!"

Elle closes her eyes, rests her chin on the top of Noah's head. Gabriel can practically see the stress ooze right out of her as her shoulders relax. "That's right, sweetheart," she murmurs, "I love you because you're Noah."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gabriel stays, despite the tension that hasn't entirely gone away. He gives Noah a bath and then watches Noah curl up against Elle, his wet hair against her shirt, while she reads him a bedtime story. They look like a painting, sitting in the big rocking chair, Elle's hair falling over her face as she reads softly to Noah.

Noah dozes off against Elle's chest, his thumb tucked against his lips. Elle doesn't move to get up, just sits and holds onto her son, her fingers trailing through his hair. Everything she's done, everything she's given up, is all worth it when she sees Noah. As long as he knows that he is loved, then she'll be okay.

She lets Gabriel pick up Noah and carry him to bed, tucking the covers around his little body carefully.

When Noah is tucked in, snuggled in his blankets and breathing deeply, Gabriel kisses Elle's cheek gently and slides on his shoes.

"Gabrie—"

He shakes his head, "You trust me with Noah now…but you don't trust me with iyou/i yet. I won't make things worse."

"I'm sorry," she says softly, but he just brushes his fingers across her cheek.

"It's okay. You will."

When he blinks out, Elle lets the tears roll down her cheeks.

_Why does everything have to be so hard?_

xxxxxxxxxxx

When Gabriel doesn't come back the next day, Elle fears the worst. As she and Noah eat dinner, the little boy stares out the kitchen window at the empty driveway, like he's waiting for Gabriel to walk up.

Elle sighs and looks for herself. The heartbreak on Noah's face is killing her, hurts her more than her own.

"Did I make Daddy mad at me?" Noah finally asks, his lower lip quivering.

"No, oh no, baby," she says firmly, "You didn't make Daddy mad at all. He's maybe just busy working today, and so maybe he will come see you in the morning."

Noah doesn't look convinced, and pushes away his half-full bowl of macaroni, "Mama, my tummy hurts."

Elle drops her spoon into her own bowl and looks at her son, "Mine too, Noah. C'mere, let's find some cartoons."

She lets Noah lay in her lap while she flicks through the channels, looking for something Noah likes. When he points eagerly at some show, she leaves the channel on and settles back against the couch, letting her eyes drift shut. She hadn't expected their fight last night to cause this…didn't think that he would let being upset with her affect his relationship with Noah.

She knows Gabriel better now. She knows that he likes vanilla ice cream, and that he and Noah are both ambidextrous. She knows he likes it when she wears blue, and that he loved his mother just as much as she loved her father, no matter the pain they caused. But she's also seen iGabriel/i kill a man, and sometimes it's that image that comes to mind when she thinks of him.

Elle is aware of her own past, of her own faults. She's murdered too, and for perhaps less than Gabriel has. A bad day…she was bored on assignment…the man didn't talk fast enough, and she got impatient.

The difference is she knows she's changed, knows the only time she'd use her ability for real (teasing fireworks and sparkles for Noah do not count) is if her son was in danger.

She can't say the same for Gabriel, and she wants to be able to. Wants to be able to forgive and forget, because when he holds her and kisses her, she can feel that he loves her. Wants to believe him when he says he's changed…wants to believe that last night hasn't screwed everything up.

She's nearly asleep when there's a knock at the door. Noah scrambles of her lap with a happy shriek, and she follows him as he scrambles to unlock the front door.

Gabriel looks awkward and uncomfortable as he pushes the bouquet of flowers at Elle, who takes them and steps back to invite him in. Noah scrambles into his father's embrace, wrapping his chubby little arms around Gabriel's neck.

"Daddy, I missed you today!" Noah shouts, "You missed my tower and my coloring and we had macaroni and cheese for supper only you weren't here."

Elle wishes she'd cleared the extra place setting off the table before watching TV with Noah.

"I'm so sorry, champ," Gabriel says, giving Noah a tight hug, "Daddy had a busy day at work, I should have called…"

Elle crosses her arms, like she wants to be angry but can't muster up the emotion, "Please try to next time," she requests, "I didn't know…"

Gabriel nods, looking at her intensely, before setting Noah onto the floor, "I came for bedtime," he says, "Can you please go put some jammies on?"

Noah nods and grins brightly, his early upset stomach forgotten as he bounds towards the bedroom to put on his jammies.

"Do I get a hug too?" Gabriel asks carefully, holding out his arms, and Elle wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest.

"I thought…I don't know, I thought you weren't coming back," she sniffles, and he kisses the top of her head, rocking a little as they stand in the doorway.

"We're gonna be alright, Elle," he tells her, and this time, she believes him.


	8. Brilliancy

Now that Noah's big secret is out in the open, a gentle calm has settled over the little family. Even June seems to like Gabriel, and encourages Elle to have him over more often. Noah loves the attention, and when they are sitting in the living room after dinner, he flits around from his mother, to his father, to his surrogate grandmother.

"See what I can do?" he asks June, then crouches on the floor in a squat to perform a sloppy somersault. June claps, praising Noah for his gymnastics and he proceeds to perform two more, one for each parent.

Elle is leaning against Gabriel, her head tucked against his shoulder while Noah scampers around, then goes to his bedroom and comes back with a bucket of trains, settling himself in the center of the living room and gleefully setting up his train station.

"I thought June could watch Noah tonight," she murmurs softy, and Gabriel nearly gets whiplash when he moves to look at her.

"What?"

She glances at him nervously, her lower lip caught between her teeth, "I thought maybe…we could go to your house, or…a hotel. June said she could watch Noah."

Gabriel swallows hard, "Yeah, yeah, we could back to my apartment."

"Alright," Elle says, and lays her head back down against his chest. Noah builds his trains and Gabriel wonders how fast he'll heal from the heart attack he's about to give himself.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

They tuck Noah in together, taking turns reading from the pages of his storybook, and Noah's little head turns back and forth between his parents.

"Daddy, I need more story," Noah says plaintively when Elle closes the book, "Else I might have nightmares."

"Why will you have nightmares?" Gabriel asks, raising a teasing eyebrow.

Noah doesn't reciprocate the grin. Instead he very seriously explains, "There monsters in this book," he points to the book that Elle has just closed, "Monsters is scary so I need more story."

Elle shrugs her shoulders at Gabriel and hands him another picture book. If she's honest with herself, she's grateful for the delay. Maybe the butterflies will calm down between now and the ending of iGreen Eggs and Ham./i

xxxxxxxxxxx

Once Noah is asleep, Elle thanks June for watching her son and walks outside with Gabriel. He holds out his hand and she takes it, twining her fingers with his.

"You're sure?" he asks, and she nods once. "Okay. Don't let go of my hand."

Everything disappears for the weirdest second and then she and Gabriel are standing in his tiny New York apartment; they've traveled hundreds of miles in less than a minute.

"Whoa," she breathes, "head rush."

"You get used to it," Gabriel says, rubbing a gentle hand up and down her back. An awkward silence descends and Elle glances around the room.

"How long have you lived here?" she asks, walking over to the window to peer out at the street below.

"A couple of years," he answers, coming up behind her. When he wraps his arms around her, she jumps, then relaxes. She leans back against his firm chest, covering his arms with hers.

"It's so pretty," she says, still looking out the window at the bright lights. Elle has been to New York before but she's never seen it like this, from a window in an apartment high above the ground.

He kisses the side of her face, his lips gentle against the rough scars on her cheek, and he slowly trails kisses over her face until he can leave a soft kiss against her temple, "You're pretty," he says, and she laughs nervously.

She knows he's lying but she can't bring herself to care. She turns around in his arms and kisses him, her lips pressing insistently against his.

"Elle, you don't have anything to prove to me…" he says, but she silences him with another kiss, her arms coming around his neck so she can hold on to him. He's careful, almost too gentle with her, as he touches her back so lightly she can barely feel him.

"I know," she says when she pulls back, "I just...," she places a tender kiss against the corner of his mouth, "I thought we could have some time with just us, again."

He smiles, and then twines his fingers in her hair, tipping her head up so he can kiss her again. She responds eagerly, her fingers scraping against the back of his neck as she arches into the kiss. His hands move down to cup her hips and she lets him pull her against him. Elle can feel his hardness pressing against her and she knows exactly what she wants.

She moves her hands from his neck to the hem of his shirt. She tugs timidly at the fabric, looking up at him, and he raises his arms for her. She drags the shirt over his head, standing on tiptoe so she can reach him. He chuckles, breaking some of the tension, and she runs her fingers over his chest.

"Elle," he whispers, pulling her against him. He cups her face in his big hands and kisses her again. Just having her in his arms is such an aphrodisiac he can hardly stand it. She pushes her tongue between his lips, tracing the contours of his mouth with the tip of her tongue until he lets out a low moan.

He scoops her up, cradling her without breaking the kiss, and stumbles over to the bed. Gabriel sets her down like she's made of glass and kneels on the floor at her feet. She's so small they're nearly at eye level and he carefully reaches forward to slide his fingers under the bottom of her shirt. She smiles at him, combing her fingers through his hair before she raises her arms, her invitation clear.

Elle lets him lift her shirt, pull it over her head. She closes her eyes as he drops it to the floor, her lip caught between her teeth. Gabriel watches her hands ball into scared fists, and he reaches for her, waiting until she opens her eyes to place a tender kiss on the back of her hand.

He kisses her stomach next, right on the line where the scars on her stomach meet the taut, smooth skin of her belly.

"I'm sorry, Elle," he sighs, his breath warm against her skin, "I'm so sorry."

She shakes her head, "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Instead of arguing, he kisses her belly again, then her shoulder. It makes him ache to look at her…to look at what he did to her.

Elle watches the sadness cover his face, and she does the only thing she can think of to change his expression back to the contented arousal from only minutes ago: she tugs on his arms until he sits on the bed next to her, then climbs into his lap and unsnaps her bra.

"I want you to make love to me," she says, and it's the first time she's asked for that. She thinks she understands now, the difference between having sex and making love, and she can feel it in the way the pads of his fingers touch her breasts.

He cups their soft weight in his palms, brushing his thumbs over her nipples until she sighs contentedly, her eyes drifting shut. He kisses the tip of each breast, closing his lips around her nipples and flicking his tongue over them.

"Please?" she begs, and he carefully picks her up so he can settle her on the bed. He moves over her, taking his time, leaving a trail of kisses from her nose to her belly button, and then unsnaps her pants.

She lifts her hips eagerly, and he drags her pants down her legs. She kicks a little and her shoes fall to the floor. He takes each of her feet in turn, tugging off her socks and kissing the soles of her feet until she giggles and pulls her feet away from him.

He's pretty sure he'd give his life to hear her laugh again.

When she's naked except for her black cotton panties, he moves to kneel between her legs. She knows immediately what he intends and her legs slide further apart in anticipation.

He kisses her over her dampening panties, tonguing her through the cotton until her legs start to shake. Then he drags the cotton down over her slim legs and crawls up her body so they're face to face.

She's trembling as he moves his legs over hers, and he reaches for her hand, meaning to calm her.

When his fingers touch hers, she jerks and bites her lip, and Gabriel's stomach drops out.

"Open your eyes, Elle," he begs, moving to lie next to her. He rubs his hand over her belly, a touch meant to soothe and not arouse. When her blue eyes flutter open, he carefully moves his hand between her legs, tracing the soft folds with the softest of touches.

"I don't want to hurt you," he tells her and she nods, her eyes locked on his.

"I know you don't," she says, and he almost believes her.

They lay like this for a long time: Elle on her back with her head turned towards him and Gabriel on his side, his hand on her, until he sees her start to relax. When her calm begins to turn to growing arousal, he slides one long finger inside of her. She whimpers and bucks against his hand, and reaches for him again.

"I want you," she says, and tries to pull him closer, to let him cover her body with his.

He takes his hand away and unbuttons his jeans, kicking his pants and boxers to the floor before he guides her over him, cupping her hips in his palms. She settles over his thighs, giving him a look of confusion.

"I don't want you to be afraid," he says, and she shakes her head firmly.

"I'm not," she insists, and kisses him to prove it, "I just…please, I didn't mean to make you think…"

He silences her with a gentle finger over her lips, then encourages her to straddle his hips. She sinks down onto him slowly, her tight, wet, heat engulfing him.

"Have you…" the question rises to his lips unconsciously, but he doesn't even need to finish.

"No one since you," Elle tells him honestly, and his hips buck until he is buried in her. Her mouth opens in delight as her eyes slam shut, the feeling of him moving inside of her too much for her to bear.

He keeps his hands on her hips, giving her balance without trying to guide her too much, but it doesn't matter. This time it is Elle who reaches for his hands, pulls them away from her hips so that she can twine her fingers with his, using him for balance as she writhes against him.

She's in his arms, pressed against him when he finally rolls them both over so that he can thrust harder into her. She screams, throwing her head back as he slides his hand between them so he can rub her clit with the pad of his thumb.

That little extra touch is all it takes to send Elle flying over the edge, and when she comes her inner muscles clench so tightly around him that he can't hold off his orgasm either. She's panting under him, her hands clenching around his biceps, her nails leaving little half-moon indents that heal over as soon as she moves her hands away.

He takes a minute to catch his breath, then rolls over onto his back so that she can curl up in the curve of his arm, using his chest as a pillow. She traces her finger in random patterns over his chest while his hand rubs her back slowly.

"I missed you so much," she murmurs, her voice so quiet he only just hears her, "even when…when I had just moved," she says, "I missed you. Every time Noah cried or looked at me, all I could see was you."

He doesn't know what to say so he just wraps his arms tighter around her, holds her and kisses the top of her head again.

"I love you," he whispers.

The minutes tick by in silence, and Gabriel is sure Elle is asleep. He pulls another blanket over her naked body, and she nuzzles against him.

"I think I love you too," she murmurs finally.

He doesn't deserve her forgiveness or her love, but he can't bring himself to voice the truth. Instead, he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, and holds her while she sleeps in his arms.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

They return to Elle's home the next day after a lazy, content morning in bed. He'd woken her with kisses until she reciprocated, then had let him explore her body with his mouth, kissing over her scars until she was no longer self conscious about them, until he internalized that she had not just forgiven him, but had given herself to him once more.

He wouldn't screw up again.

Gabriel blinks them in at the foot of her driveway, in the cover of a big tree, and they walk up the driveway together, hands clasped. Noah breaks away from June and tears down the gravel, making a beeline for Elle. She lets go of Gabriel's hand just as her tiny son launches himself from the ground into her arms.

"Mama, mama, I missed you!" he tells her, wrapping his little arms around her neck and hugging her tightly, "June made me oatmeal and we played blocks and zoo this morning!"

Elle laughs happily, "I can't wait to see what you built," she tells him before he squirms into his father's arms, loudly clamoring for a piggy back ride as they approach the house.

June leaves for work and the little family spends the day together doing nothing important. Gabriel helps Noah finish block architecture on the castle he is building while Elle makes lunch, then they spend the afternoon at the park until the setting sun encourages them to head home.

After dinner, Elle reads Noah a bedtime story and snuggles him in, sleepy herself as Noah badgers her with questions about sleeping monsters and flying teddy bears until she promises more answers in the morning and turns off the light.

Noah pretends to be asleep until he hears his mother preparing for bed. Once it sounds like she is in bed and sleeping, the little boy pads to his mother's room. Both of his parents are curled against each other, sound asleep and Noah carefully crawls between them, snuggling into his daddy's arms and pressing his cheek against his mother's silky nightgown as he, too, falls fast asleep.


End file.
